


A Special Someone

by enjettaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Petitaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:38:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjettaire/pseuds/enjettaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac is babysitting Petitaire and gets confronted with answering questions to him :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Special Someone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerddowell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerddowell/gifts).



> A short fluffy cute drabble for my Jehan <3

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in early November; one of those days where the constant drizzle and gray sky outside made the promise of drinking hot cocoa in a warm living room, with soft blankets on a sofa and old Disney classics on TV, an immensely favorable thing. One could say many negative things about rainy autumn days, but Courfeyrac could not find a single flaw in staying inside to feel cozy and comfortable and today was going to be even better because of one little thing - or better: because of a little someone. It had been pretty early when a disgruntled and slightly stressed Combeferre had dropped the de-aged Grantaire off at the flat the young Law student formerly used to share with his friend Marius. The blond man had hurled a large bag on the floor of Courfeyrac’s little hallway, filled with diapers and toys and all sorts of things their group of friends had bought, when they had found their most cynical friend to have suddenly turned into his three year old self.

“Thank you so much, Courf, you are a lifesaver right now!” Courfeyrac couldn’t had helped but to notice how tired his older friend had looked, fatigue drawn all over his face, his eyes reddened and hidden behind his glasses, which he usually never wore, as he had contact lenses that he deemed far more practical. It had went without any questioning that Petitaire, as they liked to call him, a nickname that Bahorel had invented, was to stay with Enjolras and Combeferre, but evidently it was a harder task than they both had made it seem. It wasn’t the first time Courfeyrac played the babysitter for his friends, although it had never happened with such a short notice. Enjolras had called him this morning, explaining how he had to write an important essay that would make up 25% of his grade and how Combeferre had to leave for a study group with Joly because their new professor was extremely demanding and fond of pop quizzes and if there was any chance Courfeyrac was free to watch after ‘Taire today they would be endlessly grateful. He had obliged happily, thrilled at the prospect of not having to spend the day on his own. Half an hour later he had heard a knock on his door.

“You do know we owe you one, right? Promise we’ll never bother you like that again.” Combeferre had said with a little chuckle as he had handed the small child over, who had already made a grabby gesture towards his babysitter, with his little arms outstretched, his blue eyes wide and the dark curls untamed on his head. Taking the little boy from his friend, he had tried to imitate his fiercest professor and exclaimed in his best lawyer voice that he would have to sue the two of them, if they tried to keep this little sunshine darling boy away from him, at which he tickled Grantaire’s tummy and was rewarded with a hearty laughter. After a short chat with Combeferre, he had been left alone with the little child in his empty flat.

Taking off the many layers of coats, scarves, wooly hats and socks and the ugliest jumper Courfeyrac had ever seen (he was sure Cosette had knitted it, she always did horrible patterns and clashing colours), he finally managed to save Petitaire from a possible heatstroke. “There now. This is better, isn’t it? Combeferre really made sure you are warm, didn’t he?” the dark haired grown student said with a smile. Vehemently shaking his small head, Grantaire corrected him by protesting that it had not been the medical student, who had dressed him this morning “Jolwas did this. He said I mustn’t get sick.” Courfeyrac couldn’t suppress the thought of a worrying Enjolras, fussing about like a mother hen, snatching up the small child and wrapping him up so he would probably survive a Russian winter. “Did he now?” was all he dared to comment, yet he let it slip that “Enjolras must really love you then.” Courfeyrac thought he could see something resembling a quizzical look on the little boy’s face and he remembered that his friend did not have the best childhood before and that being loved by someone was probably something he wasn’t too familiar with. It made Courfeyrac’s heart ache, especially now that he knew what Grantaire must have been like as a real child and he couldn’t contemplate how his parents were not able to love his chubby face and heartwarming cuteness. Shaking these thoughts away he leaned in close to the three year-old, as if he was telling him a secret, saying “Do you know what’s still lying on the chair in my bedroom?” Petitaire emitted a squeal of joy and dashed off in the direction of Courfeyrac’s bedroom, with Courfeyrac following behind him. When he had arrived in the doorway, little Grantaire already held up the frog-onesie Jehan had gotten him as a present. It was his favorite thing to wear and seeing as they would probably spend the whole day cuddling on the sofa, drawing pictures for their friends or taking naps in his big bed, there was really no need for Grantaire to wear the admittedly cute, but completely unnecessarily uncomfortable button-down-shirt he currently tried to pull over his head. Immediately Courfeyrac went over to the child and not even five minutes later he heard a re-dressed Petitaire telling him he had to wear his onesie as well, while he tugged at the closet door behind which he knew it hung. Obligingly the Law student opened his closet and got out his own suit (a Panda bear one) and changed just as quickly, closing the doors after he took a little glance at the last remaining one-piece suit hanging there, the one Jehan had gotten for himself, to match Petitaire and Courfeyrac. The look on his face must have indicated sadness for he could suddenly feel a pair of small arms wrap themselves around his legs and when he looked down, Courfeyrac was greeted by a pair of deep blue eyes full of admiration, questioningly looking up at him. Bending down he snatched him up and carried Grantaire out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Did you have breakfast yet? Or should I make us pancakes?” Courfeyrac asked with a chirp in his voice, immediately greeted by a loud chanting of ‘PANCAKES! PANCAKES!’. Half an hour later the two of them sat down on the sofa, snuggled in a blanket, each a plate of pancakes balancing on their legs and “The Jungle Book” running on TV. Again Courfeyrac had felt something like a sad aching going through his whole body, as Petitaire had reminded him that Jehan had left several Disney movies at his apartment. He couldn’t help it, but ever since his boyfriend had departed a few days ago for the Festival of Romance in the UK, some literature festival celebrating romantic fiction, Courfeyrac had felt heartbreakingly lonely. Back before Marius had moved in with Cosette, it hadn’t been too terrible if Jehan was gone for one or two days but now his apartment felt twice as big and he himself a hundred times more lonely. Suddenly Courfeyrac felt really grateful to have Grantaire as friend, because even though he was currently not really able to understand the service he did Courfeyrac, he was still there, just like he always had been before. It was true that Grantaire thought of himself as replaceable and without any particular use or value to their group of friends, but underneath all his cynical commentaries and scoffing at Enjolras and their causes, he was one of the most honest and best friends they all could have, because one thing was certain: Grantaire would never leave them. Courfeyrac couldn’t help it but to plant a kiss on the little chubby cheek that was moving with Petitaire’s chewing.

“Why did you do that, Fewac?” Petitaire asked him, rubbing at his cheek, accidentally smearing some syrup on his face. Answering with a smile on his lips and wiping the little boy’s cheek he explained “Because I love you very, very much, Grantaire.” “Like Jolwas?” “Yes, like Enjolras.” Well, not exactly like Enjolras, he thought to himself, seeing as how obvious it was that his blond friend hat definitely deeper feelings for Grantaire, even if he wasn’t ready to admit them yet. Petitaire had gone silent, deep in thought, his pancakes left unfinished. “What is it, little man? Anything wrong?” Courfeyrac was really worried, thinking about the possibility of Grantaire’s dark thoughts being more prominent than he could have even imagined, hunting his innocent child memories already.

“What is love, Fewac?” The question was so innocent and honest, Courfeyrac almost choked on the bite he had just taken. Thinking that it was easy to explain things to a child, he went to answer straight away just to find himself gaping like a fish, trying to start a sentence about five times, suddenly thinking that Petitaire was a philosopher in the making. Finally he confidently said “Well, little froggy, that is a very hard thing to explain. But you see Grantaire, to love someone means to care for them, to be there when they are sad and also to be there when they are happy. If somebody loves you they want you to be happy. They make sure you are warm and comfortable and they make sure you are not hungry. If you love someone you share your cookies with them and you let them pick out a movie. Loving someone means to laugh with them and you want that person to be around you all the time. We all want you to feel loved Grantaire, all of us.” With a small hint of doubt the small child asked “All of you?” Putting their plates on the small coffee table and pulling Petitaire on his lap, he repeated earnestly “Yes, all of us. Enjolras and Combeferre and Eponine, Marius and Cosette and Joly, Bossuet, Feuilly and Bahorel and Musichetta and of course Jehan and me. We all love you so very much.” Cuddling the three year old in his arms he planted yet another kiss on him, this time on the dark curls lurking out from beneath the hood Grantaire had pulled over his head. “Fewac? What about you and Jehan?” Oh goodness. It was one thing to explain the general concept of love, but Courfeyrac was not sure he was ready for the birds and the bees talk. Fidgeting a bit he decided to keep being honest with Grantaire “We love each other as well, but sometimes you see, you love someone so very much, they are your special person. Jehan is my special person and I am his.” “Does that mean you love him this much?” Drawing out the ‘i’ and thrusting his little arms apart, as far as he could stretch them, Petitaire kept asking “Why is Jehan your special person, Fewac?”

That was a question he could definitely answer, easily “Jehan is my special person, because he is always there when I need him. He cuddles and kisses me, when I expect it the least and it makes me very happy. He also makes me little presents; Jehan always gives me little poems and stories to read, because I ask him to or he does it as a surprise and they are always so nicely written. Do you remember the fairytale he wrote you, Taire? Wasn’t that nice of him? That is why he is my special person as well, because he always cares for his friends to make sure they are happy. Jehan keeps me warm at night and makes sure there is a smile on my face. When I have lots of work to do he helps me and makes me tea and dinner. When he is gone I miss him very much. I would never want to be without him again. Do you understand that?” Nodding fiercely, Petitaire crawled over to his plate, took a big bite from his pancakes and darted back to Courfeyrac, where he cuddled himself against the student’s chest.

The last thing Courfeyrac heard him saying, before his little friend returned his attention back to the movie that was still playing in the background, was a whisper, possibly more to himself than to his babysitter, but still audible and thus twice as adorable:

“I want Jolwas to be my special person.”


End file.
